The Art of Not Studying
by Rokutagrl
Summary: Most friends are not Taichi and Koushirou. Weird Taishirou.


Author: Rokutagrl

Title: The Art of (Not) Studying

Disclaimer: If I owned Digimon, you would probably have to be 18+ to watch it ;D

Pairings: Taishirou

Warnings: This was bad, and silly, and weird, but I wrote it a while ago and finally decided to finish it :D So at least there's some more Taishirou in the world ;) Let me know what you think?

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Koushirou could never be pointed out as the emotional type. That spot was often reserved for his long time friend, Taichi, who might be known by even those who passed him on the street to wear his heart on his sleeve. It was never that difficult to read his face or hand gestures as long as one was looking.

Unfortunately, Koushirou was never one to look up from his yellow pineapple laptop. In fact his face was often pale and expressionless as he surmised new information about alien life forms, conspiracies, and the like. It was actually amazing to find him without the small instrument attached to his fingertips or held by straps across his back.

So one who did not know Koushirou (because it was not easy to understand him first hand as it was his wild haired partner in crime) could not imagine that the youngster lived only in virtual reality if they did not see him ferociously typing against the fading keys on the built in pad. Of course, that really is a hard thing to judge in comparison to emotions.

Mainly because friends cannot steal another's emotions, trap them inside a trunk with a lock also missing a key all in an elaborate scheme to see a movie on Friday night. Often this is not a method one uses to spend time with a friend.

Usually when people wish to hang out on a Friday night they simple approach their friend with a glamorous smile and ask: "Want to see a movie on Friday night?"

"Of course! There is nothing else I would like to be doing than watching a movie with you in a dark, isolated theatre on my night off from school work!"

Although most friends are not Taichi and Koushirou.

"Friday. Movie." Giant grin.

"Sorry Taichi, I still have data to configure and then I'd like to get a head start on that research project."

"…You mean the senior research project?"

"Precisely."

"But you're a sophomore…"

And the conversation promptly ended with the clicking of keys and Taichi remembering WHO his friend quite was. Of course, for Taichi simply 'being Koushirou' was not a good enough excuse and it was only after a short bathroom break that Koushirou discovered that he was missing two objects that should never be alone together without some sort of supervision.

And that blasted note saying: "Friday. Movie. Pick you up at 8," mixed with the rather deceitfully pleasant grin on his best friends face at 7:49 Friday evening outside the Izumi residence when the door revealed a frowning Koushirou complete in an orange button up shirt and a pair of his best slacks.

"Where is it, Yagami?" Koushirou looked rather unimpressed with the turn of events and anyone well acquainted with the two knew that when last names were added to the mix it meant that something was terribly wrong. Like Koushirou being without his Pineapple lap top for more than several hours at a time.

But Tai, unaffected or perhaps overly exposed to this admonishment simply wagged his fingers in the face of the redhead, and slid his arm around the narrow youth's shoulders. As if it belonged there all the time and even Koushirou could not refute it so as he was pulled from his doorstep numbly.

He must have lost track of time and space because before he knew it Koushirou was having his ticket ripped by a young girl who seemed to only know how to smile and wish them luck on their entertainment quest. If she had known Koushirou, or been paying any attention at all to his plight, then the Ticket Taker probably would have swallowed her well wishings.

The Genius wasn't even certain if he had paid for the damned thing because he knows in a million years his idea of fun would not be to spend eleven dollars on Fluffy Bunnies Attack 3: Dream Land Strikes Back.

The syllables were stuck on his tongue as he eyed the poster announcing the horrible feature, which theatre number and name reflected on his ticket. Then again, Taichi had recently taken up the habit of shoving excessive amounts of money towards every cashier or waiter they had the opportunity of meeting with a prompt: "I'll pay for him, too!" so to think the brunette had something to do with it all made Koushirou's eyes twitch. That was a new habit of his own, and it was not as the kid would say: "Prodigious!"

Something told him to high tail it out of there (the pun not intended) but once again an arm comfortably slipped around his shoulders so that the poor redhead only realized a bit too late that he was seated, back row, of Fluffy Bunnies Attack 3: Dream Land Strikes Back.

One did not have to know Koushirou to realize the pure agony on his face as the opening trailers began. And whether you knew Taichi or not, it was completely understandable to see that he was enjoying every second of it.

"Yagami. You're dead. Once I get my laptop back." Koushirou hissed as a trailer proclaimed the next installment of the Fluffy Bunnies Series (Fluffy Bunnies Attack 4: The Siege of Pony Palace).

"Shhhh," Tai hissed back, although his tone did not hold the same promise of slaughter. "Some people are trying to watch."

And that was the first note Koushirou took that they were alone in the dim theatre light. His second note was that Taichi had not removed his arms. His third note included that said arm was attached to a very affection hand, which felt the need to caress his shoulder.

He was already at Note 1,569 (and anyone who is anyone knows that Taichi would laugh if he heard those last two digits) by the time he stopped counting. Heck, he stopped watching the movie—if he had ever been watching it that is to say.

Koushirou was much more concentrated on the amount of times Taichi's tongue breached his lips (37). Or how many times his heart could beat in ten seconds (1,298). Or what wonderful patterns those fingers could make on his skin (78).

Plus he was much more interested in studying the subject of 'making out.' It was far more interesting than splitting amoeba that was for sure.

Oh, and the movie.

The Ushers didn't have to be experts on Taichi nor on Koushirou to feel uncomfortable by the scene they happened upon. It was also quite apparent to tell which of the two did not feel guilty about being spotted, and which of the two had been completely mortified.

Especially when the perky Ticket Taker hoped they had, "Enjoyed their feature," and to "Have a good night."

"She doesn't know," Taichi mentioned on their way back to the apartment building eyeing the smaller boys blush.

"She's not the problem," Koushirou stated back. But he was quite content when they made it back to his residence and were able to divulge further into this new concept.

"Hey," Taichi greeted a couple of weeks later at the Izumi Residence.

"Where is it, Yagami?" Koushirou seethed back, his hands sorely devoid of one important instrument.

One who did not know Koushirou would probably assume the lithe boy to be quite angry. But Taichi liked to believe he knew him better than that, "I thought we'd catch the sequel tonight." Koushirou didn't complain as he was led once again from his doorstep by an enthusiastic Taichi, and Taichi knew better than to take his companions scowling as anything more than an act.

Most friends are not Taichi and Koushirou.


End file.
